


Just a Sip or So

by hiddencait



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: F/M, Smutty, Stream of Consciousness, Yuleporn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 16:16:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5463020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hatter thirsts as he never has before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Sip or So

**Author's Note:**

  * For [audrey1nd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/audrey1nd/gifts).



> This turned out rather... odd even from my perspective. Hatter's voice in my head went off on a Wonderland-like tangent. It's the most experimental sex scene I've ever written, and I kinda love it that way. Hopefully my giftee likes it too!
> 
> Much love to my beta Alyse for making this as coherent as it possibly can be.

Hatter sips a little, then a little more, drinking in sighs and soft cries like great gasping gulps of tea. He’s thirsty, so thirsty, like hiking the hills with Charlie without a bottle or a glass for miles. This is worse, of course; this, _this,_ is desperate as he never is with anything, anywhere, anytime ever.

This is Alice, and he can never get enough to satiate his greedy gullet. Not nearly near enough.

Desire tastes like starlight and silver, Hatter thinks, but more than those it resembles the Oysterly champagne his Alice introduced him to on their New Year’s Eve, their celebration of their new life and liberties away from the Queen of Hearts.

He’s tasted Desire before, as well as Lust, both crossing his tongue in equal measures, but he's taken no true pleasure in it. He’s tasted all the Teas he's ever sold, sampling his wares like a proper shop keeper before letting them loose on his customers. He's sipped through every snifter, cataloguing every crate that found its way to his warehouse. In time, he could tell as well as a Carpenter could just how pure and potent said potion might be, how aged the concoction was, and even if it was a woman or man who gave their Greed its guilty, grimacing flavor.

He's tried each and every one. Just as he's always tried on every hat he ever made back when he earned the name, perching porkpies, snoods, top hats, and pageboys all a top his head to perfect the proper jaunty angle.

It’s best to know what will please the customer, what will scintillate a sale all the easier.

In the time before Teas, Hatter didn’t precisely mind such duties, but neither did he precisely enjoy them either.

But after, oh after, he knew all too well the danger of tippling each Tea in turn, of drinking down more than was wise, of losing himself to the craving so many Wonderlanders chased from dawn to dawn again.

Hatter would not give in to such things. Not then, not now, not ever. He’d give nothing of himself to bow to such power caused by anything of the Queen. Nothing of hers would ever own him, not him, not Hatter. He’d sworn it once and a thousand times: he would not be a slave to such things.

Oh but this, this, _this¸_ he could get used to surrendering to, to offering himself like a sacrifice at the altar of Desire.

Just as long as _his_ Queen, his Alice, his and his alone, wishes him to.

It’s laughable, he knows, that once Lust was his least favorite after dinner darling. Its notes were too artificial against his tongue, the lingering aftertaste of Voyeur an unfortunately expected consequence of the nature of the need the Queen’s methods produced.

There was nothing real at her Casino, and even in the midst of mindless pleasure, the Oysters she stole from knew the truth.

The Queen always denied that, of course, denied and denied and denied again any truth her subjects subjected her to.

But he wouldn’t think of her, not now, not ever again now that his Alice had driven Wonderland’s driving force from the throne.

Especially not here in this room in this bed.

A lovely hand lovingly fists in his fractious hair, drawing his attention back down, down, down where he lays betwixt Alice’s thighs, his focus fixed on the delicious nectar that so mocks all other imitations. He lifts his eyes to meet hers for but a moment, winking with a cheeky grin he knows is sure to send a smile marking time across her face.

She winks back and raises a salacious eyebrow, and Hatter catches himself salivating even more than just minutes again. With her permission, he pours himself back into chasing her pleasure, to catching just the right angle with tongue and fingers and the tiniest tease of teeth until she writhes beneath him. Alice begs, the only time she ever does he knows and relishes with good reason. Strong and fierce and formidable is his Alice, but with him, blessed Mirror bright, with him, she’ll let herself weaken and wiggle in his arms, voice worn ragged in just the right way, words whisked away by his touch until only whispers and whimpers remain.

Alice sighs long and deep then, and her bones seem to slide into nothing, every inch of her skin a rosy radiant glow that gives him every bit of pride and as much pleasure as he’s just granted to her.

It took time, it did, to learn her likes and lovely tells, the hitches in her breath and bend of her knee that lets him know she wants this, wants _him_ and his touches.

It’s still heady, this elixir that he licks from her skin, supping just a little long as she giggles, body singing with almost too much pleasure. _Almost._

She pulls him up to kiss her and he shares with her just a hint of what she’s shared with him. Alice said she didn’t used to like it, the lingering of liquid sweetness from herself, but Hatter’s loved it since the very first sip and has only craved it more in the since then since he tasted it. She says it’s his enthusiastic exultation of said savoring that convinced her, but he can’t be sure if she truly finds it as delicious as he. He finds it hard to believe anyone could want her as much as he, not even she though true, she does surprise him more often than she doesn’t.

Hatter finds he likes surprises just as much as he likes her right where she is right now.

He could have more just now. She let him if he wanted, spread those gloriously strong legs and welcome the rest of him between them, but he doesn’t need for now. Hatter wants nothing more than the look on her face all soft and sated, and the knowledge that he put it there, put that sleepy passion in her eyes and the silly grin upon her lips.

Hatter did that. He’s done it before and will do it again, as long as she lets him love her. As he does, oh he does.

Hatter loves his Alice with a certainty he’s lacked his whole life long. That she loves him too is a sweetness that Desire, Lust, and all the other Teas in the Wonderlander world can never dare to match.

 


End file.
